


if you wanna be my lover (you gotta get with my friends)

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Established Relationship, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Other, Polyamory, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-08 08:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17978258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: “Hey,” Dylan says, turning to rest his back against the arm of the couch. His hair flops stupidly on his forehead. If Mikey was closer, he’d blow it off, because Dylan would make a cute dumb face and Mikey could use the laugh. “Have you told Nate you’re in love with him?”Mikey walks over, smacks him on the back of his head, then leans down and kisses it. “I’m in love with you, dumbass.”





	if you wanna be my lover (you gotta get with my friends)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [love_stella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/love_stella/gifts).



> IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW IS MENTIONED IN THE SUMMARY OR TAGS OF THIS STORY: PLEASE click away and pretend you never saw this. This is a fake story that uses public information about public figures to inform a story that is 100% made up make-believe. 
> 
> words can't explain how excited i was by your dear author letter, ash <3 i really hope you like this! thanks to s and a and d and e and a for advising, and THANK YOU to the mods for running this exchange!!! 
> 
> disclaimer: i've never worked in a bakery, so take all that with a grain of salt (or a spoonful of rainbow sprinkles, if we're being thematic)

For someone who has to wake up really fucking early, Mikey actually likes his life a lot. 

And don’t get him wrong— he is  _ not  _ a morning person. At all. Sure, he likes the sunrise, ‘cause he’s got eyes and the sky looks fucking dope sometimes, but he likes sleep a whole lot more. If you were to go back in time and tell 16-year-old Mikey that he’d have to wake up that early four days a week, past-Mikey would— okay, actually, past-Mikey would have a lot of questions about time travel at first, and then he’d ask about the outcome of whatever bet he’d struck up with Dylan that week, but after you got the conversation back on track and informed him that he’d have to wake up early four days a week? He’d probably get super horrified and, like, run away while flipping you off. Or something. 

But here he is, successfully doing that every day, because it’s his job, and he doesn’t want to get fired. 

The bakery opens at 6AM; Mikey has to be behind the counter by 5:45. Mostly, he serves and he sells, and they teach him to help with the actual baking when things are slow, or when there’s a special order. Mikey’s not one to brag, but he’s pretty much a beast when it comes to piping frosting, so, a big fuck you to everyone who says that Tasty videos don’t teach valuable skills. 

Dylan is a loving, supportive boyfriend, but he is not a fan of Mikey’s schedule. 

“Your evil alarm is evil and made of evil,” he mumbles sleepily, as Mikey clumsily climbs out of bed and walks to the dresser it’s perched on. “Please defeat it.”

“Good news,” Mikey says, even though Dylan probably can’t hear him. He turns the mega alarm clock off, then goes ahead and calls off his backup phone alarms as well. “Evil’s dead, babe, you can go back to sleep.”

“My fucking hero,” Dylan says, and then he grabs Mikey’s pillow and presses his face into it, effectively taking up the entire bed. It’s like he’s trying to motivate Mikey to stay upright and not crawl back under the covers, in his own, sleepy way. 

Realistically, if Mikey wanted to, he could push Dylan aside and climb back in beside him, and Dylan would wrap his stupid lanky arms around Mikey. He likes to say that Dylan’s a little spoon in the streets, and a big spoon in the sheets, and Dylan likes to tell him that they only spoon in the sheets and that Mikey doesn’t make any sense, and Mikey likes to say that Dylan’s face doesn’t make any sense, and then they usually make out. 

The point is, Dylan likes cuddling, and also Mikey.

Right now, Dylan is drooling all over Mikey’s pillow, and his hair is doing something funky and asymmetrical that will probably look dumb all day, and he’ll probably roll out of bed ten minutes before he has to answer a Skype call, because Fridays are a work-from-home day for Dylan, which means he spends a few hours talking into a headset and trying to make Algebra make sense. 

It works for him, and Mikey’s job—despite having to wake up so early that college-Dylan would have called it ‘early bedtime’—works for Mikey. 

Dylan really looks… not very cute when he sleeps. Mikey loves him a lot anyway. 

…… 

Mikey remembers the first time he met Nathan Bastian, because he’s got a photographic memory for funny customers with cute dimples. Since that fateful day, Mikey’s gotten to know Nate a whole lot better, and Nate has stopped being a customer and started being a coworker. 

His dimples are still very cute. 

“I’m bored,” Mikey announces, walking into the back, where Nate is rolling out the dough for the sugar cookies that Mikey’s probably gonna decorate later. 

Nate does not look up. “Congratulations.”

“That’s my way of asking if you need any help,” Mikey says. “There aren’t any customers, and the display case is already fully stocked.”

“Oh,” Nate says, and then he gives the rolling pin one final push before he pauses. “I mean, not really, unless you wanna grab a cookie cutter for me.”

Mikey shrugs. “It’ll kill a few seconds,” he says, then walks over to the cabinet where the cookie cutters are stored. He rifles through a bin that should probably be more organized, pulls out one that’s shaped like a star. 

“Glad I could provide some entertainment,” Nate says as Mikey hands it to him. He looks at the sheet of dough with this focused expression on his face, his tongue between his teeth, brow furrowed. He's got the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up and a backwards hat on his head, and Mikey can see a smudge of flour high on his cheek. 

“Your presence is entertainment enough,” Mikey says, because subtlety has never been his strong suit.

They’ve been doing this for long enough that Mikey’s developed a fine eye for the different shades of red that Nate’s cheeks can turn. Right now, it’s ‘caught off guard and very very flattered.’

“Stop objectifying me, McLeod, and go— check for customers, or something,” Nate says, unsuccessfully trying to hide a grin. 

“We can hear the door from back here,” Mikey says. “Also, you’re not my boss.”

“No, but I am trying to work, and you’re distracting me,” Nate says. 

“And?”

“And I’m trying to make these cookies,” Nate says, pressing the cutter into the dough in methodical rows. 

“I’m having fun watching you make those cookies,” Mikey says. 

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re into it,” Mikey says smugly, but before Nate can retort, the front door opens, which means Mikey actually has to go, like, do his job. 

“That’s my new favorite customer,” Nate says.

“Liar,” Mikey says, and as he walks out of the kitchen, he adds, “Can you at least try to wait till I’m done before you roll out the dough again?”

“Your professionalism is astounding,” Nate says, and Mikey can hear the wide grin in his voice, and even if he can’t see it, it makes him feel grossly happy nonetheless.

It’s not a real customer, it turns out, just Hartsy stopping by on his day off. Or, like— Hartsy is probably real, and technically a customer, but he doesn’t actually count. 

“‘sup, weirdo?” Mikey says. 

Carter raises an eyebrow at him. “Is that how you talk to people? Is this why we don’t get tips when you’re at the register?” 

“Hey, not fair,” Mikey says. “We never get tips because our customers are shitty. I’m charming as fuck.” 

“I don’t see it,” Carter says flatly. “Can I have some coffee?” 

“Nope,” Mikey says, grabbing a paper cup from the stack and sliding a sleeve onto it. Their coffee is alright, but they’re pretty bare-bones as far as beverages are concerned— no espresso, no fancy syrups, just coffee and a few canisters of milk. “Room for cream?” 

“Never,” Carter says, because he’s never had a normal answer to a question in his life. 

Nate comes out to the front while Mikey’s getting Carter’s coffee ready, looks around the shop as he wipes his hands on his apron. “Hey Hartsy,” he says. “Any chance you’re gonna put in a special order for a billion sugar cookies?” 

“Probably not,” Carter says. “Unless you need me to? I can see if Phil needs something for his class.” 

“I don’t think you’re allowed to feed the kids anymore,” Mikey says. “He’d prolly have to leave ‘em in the teacher’s lounge.” 

“You’re not allowed to feed kids anymore?” Nate asks. 

“Not if you’re teaching them, I don’t think,” Mikey says. “Maybe it depends on the school? But there are—” he waves a hand. “Kids have allergies and stuff, I dunno.” 

“Hm,” Carter says. “Guess no special order, then. Why do you know so much about teachers, anyway?” 

“Because my brother teaches third grade?” 

“Who, Ryan?” Nate asks.  

Mikey shakes his head. “No, Matt.” 

“I thought Dylan’s brother was Matt,” Carter says. 

“One of Dylan’s brothers is Matt,” Mikey says. “The other is Ryan.” 

“But your brother is Ryan,” Carter says. 

“Right,” Mikey says. “I have a younger Ryan and an older Matt, and Dylan has a younger Matt and an older Ryan.” 

Carter looks just the slightest bit horrified. “How do you guys keep track of that?”  

“We manage,” Mikey says, casting a sideways glance at Nate. “It helps when two of them are my brothers, and the other two aren’t.” 

“But if your brother is dating Dylan’s brother, doesn’t that mean your brother’s boyfriend has the same name as his brother?” Nate asks.

“What, Matt?” 

“No, Ryan.” 

“I don’t know what anyone’s talking about anymore,” Carter announces. “There are too many names and not enough coffee.” 

“I agree,” Nate says. 

“Oh, here,” Mikey says, handing Nate the cup in his hand without really thinking about it, before he remembers that it’s technically for Carter. He’s gonna make some joke about it, maybe say something about liking Nate better, but then Carter gives him an amused look, like he knows the only reason that happened is because Mikey’s kind of fucked, when it comes to Nate. 

“Does this mean you’re gonna make a fresh pot for your paying customers, then?” Carter asks, eyebrows raised. 

Mikey rolls his eyes, tries not to blush. “I sincerely doubt you were planning on paying for that.” 

“Oh, did I just steal this?” Nate says, seeming unconcerned as he takes a sip. “Whoops.” 

“It’s fine, I was gonna make more,” Mikey says, turning towards the machine, but Nate stops him, shakes his head. 

“Nah, it’s cool, I’ll do it,” Nate says. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in the kitchen?” 

“Well, if no one’s mass ordering sugar cookies in the next few minutes, I think I can take 5.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Mikey says. “If you’re gonna take a break, take a break.” 

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Nate says, bumping Mikey’s shoulder good-naturedly as he walks past him to get some more coffee going, and Mikey tries not to think about how that makes him feel like someone’s set his entire body on fire. 

From across the counter, Carter raises his eyebrows in a very purposeful way, and Mikey ignores it and starts to rearrange the display case instead, stealing the occasional look at Nate out of the corner of his eye. 

…… 

When Mikey walks into his apartment, Dylan is lying upside-down on the couch, his legs thrown over the back, hair brushing the floor. 

There’s a chance he’s picked up this particular habit from Mikey. Mikey may feel a little proud. 

“How’s the view down there?” Mikey asks, walking past him and into the kitchen. 

“I heard that if you spend time upside down after learning, it prevents the knowledge from leaking out of your brain,” Dylan responds. 

“You know, I’m not a doctor, or anything, but I’m pretty sure that’s not true.” 

Dylan does the verbal equivalent of a shrug. “Worth a shot.” 

“If you say so, honey,” Mikey says, pulling the bag of Tostito’s and jar of salsa out of his backpack and putting it in the cabinet. Dylan’s been on him about using actual grocery bags, but Mikey wasn’t going to come home just to grab the Trader Joe’s bag that Dylan had pilfered from his brother’s place so he could go buy shit from a store that’s not Trader Joe’s. He thinks that logic is sound.

“Hey,” Dylan says, turning to rest his back against the arm of the couch. His hair flops stupidly on his forehead. If Mikey was closer, he’d blow it off, because Dylan would make a cute dumb face and Mikey could use the laugh. “Have you told Nate you’re in love with him?” 

Mikey walks over, smacks him on the back of his head, then leans down and kisses it. “I’m in love with  _ you, _ dumbass.” 

“That’s irrelevant,” Dylan says. “Why won’t you just tell him, dude?” 

“Because.”

Dylan gives him a look. “That’s not an answer.” 

“You know my reasons,” Mikey says. “Talking about things is hard, and explaining the whole situation might—” 

“—put a really great friendship at risk and put a coworker in an awkward position, blah blah blah,” Dylan says. “But you have to  _ do  _ something about your feelings.” 

“Not all of us are you, babe,” Mikey says, mostly automatic. Dylan swats at him for that, and Mikey jumps over the back of the couch to sit next to him. Naturally, Dylan responds by tucking his feet under Mikey’s leg. 

“Carter says it’s getting bad,” Dylan says. 

“Carter’s a liar,” Mikey says. “Since when do you talk to Carter?”

“He’s your friend, he’s in my class, we talk,” Dylan says. “I like him. He’s honest.” 

“He’s fucking weird, is what he is,” Mikey says. 

“Exactly,” Dylan says. “I like that in a person.” 

“Clearly.” 

“Anyway, he told me T and Tony have a bet going, and that Speersy asked if something was going on with you two,” Dylan says. 

Mikey had known about the bet, because Tony had told Jozy, and Jozy had, as usual, told everyone. The other part is new, though. “Does Speersy know about you and me?” 

“I think that’s another thing he’s confused about,” Dylan says. “Poor guy.” 

Mikey groans. “Why can’t our friends mind their own business?” 

“Because your flirting is the most interesting part of your workplace, apparently,” Dylan says. 

“There are cookies and cakes there, how is my flirting more interesting?” 

“Just is,” Dylan says, and then he kicks at Mikey’s leg, which means Mikey has to shove his shin, and of course that eventually turns to wrestling on the living room floor and making out until Dylan has to tap out and do stupid grad student things.

So. The conversation gets forgotten. 

…… 

Here’s the thing: Mikey and Dylan are endgame, and they both know it. 

They also both fall in love with other people fairly regularly. 

Mostly, it’s harmless crushes that don’t lead to anything; Dylan will flirt with a cute spinning instructor, Mikey will get the occasional free tank of gas if that one attendant at the station who’s straight but appreciates the attention is there. They both like people, and like making friends, and even if they like each other more than anyone else, that doesn’t mean they  _ can’t  _ like other people. They have room in their hearts for tons of friends, and there’s no reason that can’t extend to flirty-friendships without getting in the way. 

They’ve been in love with each other forever, pretty much, and they spent a lot of their teenage years being weird about it. Mikey would hook up with Dylan’s friends to make him jealous, because he couldn’t hook up with Dylan, because he was convinced that would make things weird, and then it would work, but Mikey would realize he didn’t actually like making Dylan jealous, because a jealous Dylan Strome is mostly just sad. 

And then Dylan would have these intense friendships and Mikey would feel replaced and vaguely threatened, and it was just… not good for either of them, and then they grew the fuck up and sort of realized that their feelings for each other weren’t going anywhere, so they might as well just… give it a shot. 

Obviously it’s worked out well; they’ve been together for ages, live together and everything, and it’s nice. They make each other super fucking happy, and support each other, or whatever. Dylan’s dying in grad school, Mikey brings him free cookies sometimes. It’s… symbiotic. In the nature way. Not the slimy alien way. 

Technically speaking, Mikey’s pretty sure they have an open relationship. Dylan’s got a few other people he sees when they’re in the same place— some of those close friends who became more-than-friends, but respect that Mikey is Dylan’s #1 guy. Dylan sleeps with them, Mikey knows; sometimes Mikey gets invited, and sometimes he doesn’t. It depends on who the friend is, how Mikey’s feeling about things, and how well schedules can line up. Mikey and Dylan used to have a few guys they’d both take out regularly, and Mikey’s gone on dates with people he’s met who are already in the know and on board with the whole poly thing. There’s a little bit of jealousy sometimes, but for the most part, they’ve been pretty good about dealing with it. They’ve definitely only gotten better over time, if Mikey does say so himself. Communication, advocating for yourself, and all that other generic relationship advice? It actually works. 

Who knew. 

The issue with Nate is that Nate doesn’t know about Dylan yet. 

Which. Is weird for Mikey, on a number of levels. He doesn’t have many people in his life who think of him without immediately thinking of Dylan, and even most of the other guys at work know him from the period of time when he’d come in daily to beg Mikey for free coffee. That doesn’t work with his schedule anymore, though, and Nate started working there after that, and Dylan’s name just hasn’t come up in conversation since. 

It’s not that Mikey’s hiding him, per se. Like he said, he just… doesn’t want to put Nate in an awkward position. 

Because Mikey  _ does  _ have feelings for him, is the thing, and he wants to know if Nate might have some for him before he explains the rest of it. That’s— it works, and Mikey likes what he has with Dylan, but he knows it’s not for everyone. He likes his work flirtationship way too much to just casually bring up that he has a boyfriend, knows that Nate would be confused, or maybe guilty, and would definitely hide it from Mikey, and that might make Nate pull away, and that’s not what Mikey wants. 

Plus, even though Dylan’s all nonchalant about it, Mikey knows this would be kind of a change for them; Mikey’s never really  _ liked  _ anyone like he likes Nate, and they’ve never dated other people seriously. Dylan’s other partners are in different places most of the time, and they knew Dylan before he and Mikey worked their shit out; this is someone entirely new, and Mikey doesn’t know if Dylan’s actually okay with Mikey giving it a shot, or just saying he is. 

On top of all that: talking about feelings is fucking hard. Just. As a general rule. Love confessions are difficult, and it’s the core conflict at the heart of the plot of every movie Dylan watches. 

So. Needless to say, Mikey’s not really planning on doing anything about it, and like most of Mikey’s plans, life throws a wrench in that. 

It’s because of Nico, who Mikey and Nate are supposed to be training. Which is an awful idea—Mikey is good at responsibility sometimes, except for when he isn’t—and naturally, leads to a full-on sprinkle war, which means that, when Nolan walks in the back to start his shift, Mikey is expecting some grumpy mumbling. 

“Oh my god,” Nolan says, sounding very long-suffering for someone who’s only been dealing with this for a few months. “Is there someone who’s supposed to make sure you guys don’t act like idiots?” 

“It’s fine,” Mikey says, shaking a few sprinkles out of his hair. “We just wanted to show the new guy that we have fun around here.” 

“He just got caught in the crosshairs of a hard-fought battle,” Nate adds. “Don’t be rude, Patty, introduce yourself.” 

“We’ve already met,” Nico says cheerfully. He’s remarkably not worried for someone who just got caught rainbow-handed on his first day of work; Mikey is impressed. 

“Hi again,” Nolan says, and his voice gets a little warmer. Not actually warm, but warm by Nolan Patrick standards. “See why I was so confident you’d get this job?”

“Hey,” Mikey says, offended. “They don’t just hire anyone. I had to watch a lot of cooking shows to get this job, okay?” 

“Marathoning Baking’s Best doesn’t make you qualified to work in a bakery,” Nolan says flatly. “I think it makes you… like, the opposite of qualified.” 

“Don’t hate on Baking’s Best,” Nate says, before Mikey has a chance to say the exact same thing, because Baking’s Best is truly the greatest TV show ever created. Like, whoever decided to let the casting director from some Real Housewives show choose the least talented, most cutthroat bakers in North America for a competition show with a fuckton of sabotages? That shit probably deserves a Nobel Prize, or something. Mikey’s not sure what they deserve a Nobel Prize for; maybe just, like, general genius. 

“Of course you like that show,” Nolan says, rolling his eyes. “How are you guys already the same person?”

“We have good taste,” Mikey says, crossing his arms and sticking his tongue out at Nolan before turning back to Nate. “But actually, how have we never tallked about this?” 

“Seriously,” Nate says. “The best show. The  _ best.”  _

“Remember the episode where Tanya—”

“—teamed up with Daniel to mess with Kathryn—”

“Right, and then it turned out Kathryn and Daniel were—” 

“—planning on having an affair, except then we found out Kathryn was married—”

“—to Tanya!” Mikey finishes. “God, that episode was wild.” 

“I’m sorry, this is a cooking show?” Nico says. 

“Barely,” Nolan says. 

“It’s a cooking show and so much more,” Nate corrects. “The season finale’s this weekend, and dead serious, someone  _ might  _ die. Like, I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole thing turned out to be a front for the mafia.”

“Please, the mafia could never.”

“You’re right,” Nate says. “I’m gonna have to wait until the day after to watch, so no spoilers, okay?” 

Mikey frowns. “Why the day after?” 

“I don’t have a TV,” Nate says. “I’ve gotta wait until it’s online.” 

“What? Dude, I have a TV, you can come watch it at mine,” Mikey says, before he can even think about it.

“Oh, that’s—” Nate blinks, then, slowly starts to smile, and Mikey realizes that inviting Nate over was probably a mistake. “That’d be— nice, yeah.” 

And Mikey smiles back—of course he does—but it’s gonna suck when he starts to regret this, probably.

……  

“Hey, honey, my life is over,” Mikey says, sing-song, when he walks into the apartment. 

Dylan looks up from where he’s sitting in the papasan chair, one foot against the wall as his legs rest perpendicular for no discernible reason. “Do you need to go on the lam? Do you have a secret criminal past we need to hide from the police? Because I’m down to change my identity and start a new life in a new town, if you need.” 

“Nah, we’d have to get gas,” Mikey says. He flops down on top of Dylan, in what would be his lap if he was capable of sitting straight enough in a chair to actually have a lap. “I invited someone over.” 

“Hey, it’s not  _ that  _ messy, I’m sure cleaning won’t be that bad,” Dylan says, adjusting under Mikey. “Hold up, you’re crushing my leg.” 

“It’s not about the mess,” Mikey says, ignoring Dylan as he tries to wrench his leg free. “It’s about the guest.” 

“Who is it?” 

Mikey groans. “A bad idea.” 

“Bad ideas aren’t people, Mike,” Dylan says, finally pulling his leg free, causing the chair to tilt backwards and Dylan to let out a startled yelp. 

“It’s Nate,” Mikey says, standing up. Dylan gives him a small glare for the chair thing, but puts his legs together and feet on the floor so Mikey can properly join him. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this.” 

“Why’d you do it?” Dylan runs a hand up and down Mikey’s back. 

“We’re watching the finale of Baking’s Best tomorrow night, and I just— ugh.” Mikey looks up at the ceiling. “He still thinks you’re my roommate.” 

Dylan hums, considering, and Mikey doesn’t turn to look at him when he says, “Have you considered telling him that I’m, uh. Not just your roommate?” 

“Well— yeah,” Mikey says. “Eventually, probably.” 

“So, why not now?” Dylan says, and he means it genuinely, Mikey can tell. 

Mikey thinks about it, for a second. He knows Dylan’s probably been worried, that he doesn’t know why Mikey’s been putting this off for months now when Dylan’s been perfectly aware of Mikey’s feelings, but— there are some things they’ve been talking around, and Mikey isn’t quite ready to admit to himself that he’s actually gonna do something about this, but he needs to get this off his chest. Maybe it will feel less like he’s being crushed by it, if he does. 

“I guess— like, I know we’ve always been okay with this kind of thing, but this feels— different.” Mikey hates that he feels guilty as he says it, because he shouldn’t. It’s just that he  _ does,  _ and maybe it’s because it  _ is  _ different, and he’s not really sure if Dylan’s thought about it like that.

“Okay,” Dylan says, calm as anything, which doesn’t do much to convince Mikey that he’s really grasping the scenario. “How is it different?”

“I  _ really _ like him, Dyl,” Mikey says. “Like— a lot, y'know? And it’s kind of— I want him to stick around for a while, I think.”

“You mean, like, as a primary partner?” Dylan asks.

Mikey’s never been comfortable with the clinical language of this kind of relationship the way Dylan is. It’s handy, definitely, but Mikey’s always afraid that once he gives this kind of thing a label, he’ll have to adhere to all sorts of standards and procedures, and the whole point of the way he and Dylan are is that he  _ doesn’t  _ like following other people’s rules. He has to admit, though— right now, it’s nice that there’s a way to describe it, that Dylan understands what Mikey’s trying to say. 

Mikey’s never had another Dylan before, and Dylan’s never had another Mikey, and sure, Nate and Dylan are different people, but still. They’ve never had to make room quite like this, before. 

“Yeah,” Mikey says. “It’s just—” He shrugs, helpless. “I don’t know.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” Dylan says. “I’ve— I sort of realized it was gonna be something like that.”

“I know we always say that anything is okay as long as we’re both happy, but we’ve never done anything like this,” Mikey says. 

“Sure,” Dylan says. “I get it, man, I really do. I— I still think it’s okay, though.”

“Are you sure?”

“Michael,” Dylan says, rolling his eyes. “I’m not sure about most things in my life, so I think I can be trusted when I say I’m sure about you.”

Mikey’s boyfriend is the most dramatic idiot in the universe, and Mikey is so, so lucky.

…… 

Mikey’s hands shake as he shows Nate around the apartment, Dylan following closely at his heels, but he thinks he does a good job covering it up. 

It’s really not much of a tour— their place is nice, but it’s small, and also occupied by a grad student and a baker-in-training, so even when it’s been tidied, it’s still mostly just an impressively functional mess. 

It goes off… not quite without a hitch, but. With only one hitch.

“This is a one bedroom?” Nate asks, furrowing his brow. 

Mikey tries to think fast, wracks his brain for an excuse, but before he gets a chance, Dylan says, “Oh, yeah, I’m a big couch sleeper.”

“And the one bedroom was cheaper,” Mikey adds quickly. “So, we figured, might as well.” 

“Right,” Nate says slowly. “I mean, it’s a nice place.” 

“Thank you,” Dylan says, beaming a little and kind of puffing out his chest. They clean so infrequently that Mikey always forgets how stupidly proud Dylan gets whenever their apartment looks nice, but it is a very good look on him. He really does love their functional mess of a life. 

“So,” Mikey says, before he starts to feel too gushy about this whole thing, “Now that the tour’s over, let’s watch some people not bake and destroy each other’s lives.” 

“I don’t know how this show ended up on a food channel,” Dylan says. 

“It’s the gimmick,” Nate says. “Food’s what gets you hooked, and sabotage is what gets you to stay.” 

“Is that why Mikey says I can’t watch it, otherwise I’ll become convinced he’s gonna kill me in my sleep?” Dylan asks. 

“Maybe,” Mikey says. “But the ban is lifted tonight, so, you’re welcome.” 

“You’re inviting me to watch the season finale of a show I’ve never seen before?” 

“I’m honestly jealous,” Nate says. “You’re gonna experience it fresh, for the first time.” 

“Virgin eyes,” Mikey agrees. 

“That’s… one way of putting it, for sure,” Dylan says, giving Mikey a look like,  _ I approve,  _ which Makes Mikey feel warm and happy inside in about four thousand different ways. 

…… 

It just— it gets weird, for a bit, when Dylan starts to scoot away from Mikey on the couch so Mikey can sit with Nate, because it’s a really obvious move, and so obviously Mikey’s gonna get up and move around and shit so he can prove to Dylan that he can do this shit on his own time, and then they have a few conversations entirely in eyebrow raises that end in a silent semi argument and Dylan leaving the apartment to go ‘get more chips’, but not before telling Mikey—or, like, telling him with his face, he doesn’t actually say any of this—that he should make a move fast. 

And, look, Mikey knows, alright? He knows he should sit down and explain the situation to Nate because now that Nate and Dylan know each other, and Nate is, like, in Mikey’s apartment with an hour left before any relevant programming airs, Mikey should probably be aiming to get this conversation out of the way. Then, he’ll be able to watch his favorite show stress free. 

Unfortunately, right now, all Mikey can do is frown at the door as it shuts behind Dylan.

“I’m sorry about him,” Mikey says. “He’s usually less annoying, I promise.” 

“No worries,” Nate says, casual as ever.

“I don’t know why he’s being all—” Mikey waves a hand. “I swear, he’s a really likable dude most days.” 

“He’s plenty likable now,” Nate says. “I liked him plenty, at least.” 

Mikey hadn’t realized how much it would mean to him to hear that until the words are coming out of Nate’s mouth, and now that they are, it’s— it’s pretty big, honestly. Dylan matters a lot to Mikey. Obviously, he does, but— 

It’s just really nice that Nate likes him, is all, because Mikey wants Nate to be important to him like that someday too. 

“That’s good,” Mikey says. “I’m— I’m really glad you like him.” 

Nate gives him a look that’s a little… not bad, but— confused, maybe. “You’re welcome?” 

“It’s just— I’m glad you’re getting along,” Mikey says, a little embarrassed, and Nate’s still giving him a strange look, and Mikey’s about to ask what that’s about, except Nate opens his mouth first.  

“Hey, so, I don’t wanna be, uh, weird, or anything, but— are you… trying to set me up with your roommate?” Nate asks. 

Mikey tries not to sputter, and almost does a half-decent job. 

“I’m— not— uh, no?” Mikey says. “Not… really? I mean, not—” 

“Because— I mean, he seems awesome, and clearly you guys get along, but I, uh—” Nate swallows. “I sort of thought that… that you and I— I mean, let me know if I’m off base here, but—” 

“You’re not,” Mikey says quickly, and his heart is beating a million miles a minute. “I mean— yeah, that’s— yeah.” 

“Yeah?” Nate’s voice goes a little high-pitched and hopeful, and Mikey can’t help but smile at it, wide and embarrassed and kind of dopey. 

“I— I’m being sort of—” Mikey takes a breath. “So the thing is, I really like you, but it’s sort of… complicated.” 

“Okay,” Nate says slowly, sounding a little less elated. “What does that mean?” 

“It’s just,” Mikey says. “Dylan.” 

“What about him?” 

“He and I—” Mikey cuts himself off, not sure what he’s even going to say. 

“You mean… is there, like, history there?” Nate asks. 

“More like current events,” Mikey says, staring at his feet. “So that’s— um. A consideration.”

Nate is quiet for a second. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like— he’s my boyfriend,” Mikey says. 

“He’s—” Nate cuts himself off, seems to replay that a few times in his head, processing. “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Mikey says. 

Neither of them says anything for the next few seconds, and Mikey barely breathes, he’s pretty sure. He knows there’s more he should be saying, but he can’t bring himself to, isn’t sure how to let Nate know that it doesn’t mean what he’s probably assuming right now. 

“So you—” Nate gulps. “Does, uh— does everyone know?” 

“More or less,” Mikey says. 

“Right,” Nate says. “And no one told me.” 

Mikey shrugs. 

“Did you ask them to?” Nate says. “Or, did you ask them not to?” 

“What, tell you?” 

“Yes,” Nate says. 

“I—”

“Because it doesn’t really make sense,” Nate says. “Like— none of it makes sense, actually, unless you were just— what, leading me on, or something?” 

“It’s not like that,” Mikey says quickly. 

“How?” Nate says, and Mikey realizes that it’s angry. “Because as far as I can tell, that’s the only real explanation, if there wasn’t a chance—” 

“No, no, it’s not—” MIkey shakes his head, gathers his thoughts enough to realize that he really,  _ really  _ handled this in the wrong order. “I’m not saying there’s no chance, just— if you’re okay with it, I mean, it’s not— we can make it work, it’ll just take a little more… work.” 

Nate looks like he’s about to say something, but he stops in his tracks, his eyes going wide in confusion. “Wait, what?” 

“I mean,” Mikey says. “Dylan and I— he gets it. He’s just a factor in all this, is all.” 

“Okay, you lost me,” Nate says. 

“Like—” Mikey shakes out his hair, plants his feet, because he finally realizes what he’s gotta fucking say, so he’s gonna fucking say it. “Dylan knows I have feelings for you. And he’s good with us doing something about it, as long as you’re okay with the fact that I have a boyfriend.” 

“So you’re saying that you’ll date me, but— what?” 

“There’s no but,” Mikey says. “I’ll date you as long as you wanna date me.” 

“But you have a boyfriend,” Nate says. 

“Right,” Mikey says, nodding. “I’m in a  _ committed _ relationship, not an exclusive one.” 

“So you’re allowed to date other people?” 

“I’m allowed to do whatever I want, I think,” Mikey says. “And so are you, so— look, do you still have feelings for me? Even though I have a boyfriend?” 

“I— well, yeah, I guess,” Nate says. 

“Alright,” Mikey says. “So if you wanna act on those feelings, we can do that.” 

“But… like—” Nate shakes his head, looking a little overwhelmed, and Mikey belatedly realizes that he should probably wait for Nate to catch up to him. He’s riding the high of doing something about his massive crush, but that doesn’t mean Nate had been moving at quite the same pace.

“I’ve got some questions,” Nate says, after a second of processing. He looks a little shell-shocked, but not worse for the wear. 

“Of course,” Mikey says immediately. “Ask away.” 

“I guess— it’s like— I don’t… know how to date someone with a boyfriend?” Nate says, like it’s a question. “How does that work?” 

“I don’t think there are rules,” Mikey says. “Or, I mean— there aren’t rules. It’s like dating anyone, except you’ve gotta be a little more upfront about shit.” 

“Oh,” Nate says, and then he seems to consider that for a second. “So does that mean— like, would I also be… dating him? Or would you and him be dating and I’d just be, like, there, or—” 

“It’s literally whatever you want,” Mikey says. “I mean, technically, whatever we want, but I’m down with anything.”

“Okay,” Nate says, mostly to himself, and then again, a little louder, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Mikey says, trying to not feel too hopeful and failing spectacularly. In his defense, Nate looks like he’s starting to come to some conclusion, and judging by the look on his face, they’re conclusions Mikey’s going to enjoy. 

“So, you have a boyfriend, but— you’re okay with having another boyfriend, right? Like— not right from the start, obviously, but eventually, we could… we’re gonna give it a real shot and maybe, like, build to that?”

“Right,” Mikey says. “The only difference is—” 

“That you have a boyfriend,” Nate says. “Y’know, now that I think of it— that’s like, a point in your favor, right?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, you’re prolly, like, trustworthy, and good at dating, and stuff.” 

“So you’re saying that Dylan’s proof that I’m boyfriend material?” 

“I was thinking more along the lines of, he’s a reference, but we can go with that,” Nate says, laughing a bit, and now Mikey’s smiling, and they’re both blushing all happy, and— 

Yeah, this is pretty much everything Mikey could have hoped for.

…… 

“See?” Dylan says later, when it’s just the two of them on the couch, Mikey’s head on Dylan’s chest. “What did I tell you?” 

“Yeah, yeah, talking about feelings is alright,” Mikey says, still smiling down at the his phone at the text Nate had sent him earlier. “You were right.” 

Dylan tilts his head back. “Oh, yeah, say that again.” 

“You’re a freak, but you were right,” Mikey says, turning to press a small kiss to Dylan’s neck. “Let’s go to bed, eh?” 

“Mmm,” Dylan says, and Mikey can feel the hum of it against his mouth. “You tired?” 

“Kind of,” Mikey says. “I have to get up early tomorrow.” 

“Of course you do,” Dylan says. 

In a second, they’re going to have to get up from this couch and crawl into bed, but for the time being, Mikey just lets the weight of his head sink into Dylan’s chest a bit more, sends Nate a text that says  _ sleep tight tonight <3,  _ and thinks about how excited he is for the morning. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> untagged characters who get mentioned: phil myers, mathieu joseph, blake speers, taylor raddysh, anthony cirelli
> 
> 'baking's best' is a fake show i made up that's like... if real housewives were on a version of gbbo, with nailed it!-quality confections and cutthroat kitchen vibes, that aired on some strange premium cable hybrid of bravo and food network. 
> 
> also i couldn't squeeze this into the story but there is very much background carter/phil/jér in this, carter and dylan bond over poly stuff and also grad school being The Worst. also: does carter sleep in this 'verse??? who knows! (the answer is yes, his boyfriends spoon him to make sure that happens. also, phil teaches pre-school and y'all are welcome for that mental image)


End file.
